Best Laid Plans
by PoisonComeUndone
Summary: It's the first Valentine's Day for Nate and Eliot as a couple, and while everyone seems to think they're clueless, they've actually both got some pretty good plans.That doesn't mean everything always works out, however.This is just a relationship snapshot


So, this is my first Nate/Eliot, and I hope it comes out well! I was gonna wait a little longer to try them, but I saw the Valentine's prompt and I just couldn't resist. This is set in my own little verse, with Nate/Eliot established relationship, and the team being based out of Boston.

* * *

"So…"

Hardison scooted the chair up disturbingly close as he stretched out the word, his arms coming up to rest on the back of the couch behind Eliot's head. His eyebrows rose, his eyes not drifting from the basketball game filling up the six TV screens. "So?"

"So, tomorrow's Valentine's Day."

"And?" He snapped the word out, irritated. He was pretty sure he knew where this conversation was going already.

"And, you know, I'm just wondering what you're gonna do for-"

"If I was you, I wouldn't finish that sentence."

Hardison sighed, fake suffering oozing from it, and Eliot's hand twitched toward the remote. The game almost wasn't worth it. He could switch it off, leap up and get the fuck out.

"Oh, come on, man! I mean, we all know, so I was just thinkin' I could you know, give you some ideas, some pointers, cause-"

Maybe it was rising to the bait, but he couldn't help it. He whirled around, glare pinning Hardison down. "Really? Really? When was the last time you even dated anyone Hardison?" Hardison opened his mouth, almost ready with an answer, but he cut him off. "Wait, lemme clarify…when was the last time you had a relationship that _wasn't_ over the internet?"

Hardison scoffed, scooting his chair back over to his computer quick. "You know, I'm just tryin' to help you out here man, but whatever, if you don't appreciate my efforts, then-"

"Hardison, think I can manage this myself." And if they didn't stop trying to 'help' him, he wasn't gonna be responsible for his actions. Just that morning Parker had suggested he get Nate a venus fly trap instead of flowers. The whole holiday was fucked anyway, but that didn't mean he'd never participated in it. When he'd been with Aimee he'd been pretty damn good at it, and yeah, his relationship with Nate was different than that, but that didn't mean he was fucking clueless, and it definitely didn't mean he'd forgotten.

"Yeah, ok, whatever, man. Just sayin'…if it was me, I'd make something good you know, nice Betty Crocker chocolate cake or something."

He twisted around in his seat at that, making a face. "Ok first of all, that shouldn't really count as baking anything. That's more like an assembly kit. Second of all, if I make him anything, it's not gonna come from chocolate flavored powder."

"You know what you're problem is? You're too picky. It's the _gesture_ that counts, Eliot, the _gesture_ not the-"

"You know what, I'm outta here."

* * *

"I mean…I know it's not really any of my business but have you…you know, _thought_ about it?"

Nate sighed, his head falling into his hands. In the beginning, he'd been worried about how Sophie would take his relationship with Eliot. Of course, she hadn't been thrilled or anything but she'd adjusted, and he'd been pretty glad that she seemed ok with it. Until now, that was, because if she was ok enough with it to try to give him advice, then that was just a whole other problem.

"Look, Sophie, I was married, remember? I know not to forget these things; I've got it."

She twisted her chair closer, shrugging. "I'm just…_thinking_, Nate, you know, you want to say the right thing with a Valentine's Day present. I mean, I understand there's certain things Eliot likes but-"

"What do you think I'm gonna do, huh, give him knives?" He laughed, but really, as a birthday present or something, it wasn't a bad idea. It had been well received last Christmas, at least. "Look, I promise, I've got this. Seriously."

"But sometimes if you get another _perspective_ on things, they look different…" She trailed off, questioning, and even though she gave him the big doe eyes, he didn't crack.

"I'm not telling any of you what I got him. And that's all I'm gonna say about it."

* * *

The morning of the 14th, Eliot woke to the feel of Nate's mouth on him. It wasn't the first time, but considering how often he was the first one up it was pretty rare, and a pretty fucking wonderful way to wake up. He moaned appreciatively, arching lazily, his fingers weaving gentle through Nate's curls to cup the back of his head.

Nate was slow and easy about it, and though Eliot didn't rush him he was fully awake and panting by the time he came, one hand sliding down to grip Nate's neck hard as he pulled him up into a kiss. They made out and he lost track of time, and he got Nate off with one hand wrapped warm around him, listening to the fucking amazing sounds Nate was making against his neck.

That part of the day, that had been at least partially planned, on Nate's part at least. After that, things kind of derailed. Nate's phone rang, vibrating loud against the wood of the nightstand, and he didn't even break their kiss as he reached for it, flailing around absently as he sucked hungrily at Eliot's tongue.

He broke away only to answer. "Yeah?" Because he honestly hadn't looked at the caller ID, and he really expected Parker. Really. Except it was Maggie on the phone, crying her eyes out and saying her mother's there in Boston in the hospital, and can Nate come down there because she's probably dying.

Of course, Eliot had told him to go on, talked it over with him until he sounded convincing, but honestly… God, he felt like a girl even thinking it, but it seriously _sucked_ being left alone on Valentine's Day so your boyfriend could go see his former mother in law and comfort his ex. Seriously sucked.

Even so, he couldn't stay completely mad, not really, and he'd gone ahead with some of his plans anyway. At the moment, that included the homemade milk chocolate brownies in the oven. They smelled good already, and he was pretty resigned to the fact that they'd be done in a few minutes and he'd have to take them out to cool and go ahead and cover them, because there wasn't gonna be anyone there to eat them.

He was washing the last of the flour off his arms when Nate came up behind him, arms wrapping strong around his waist, and though he tensed and almost elbowed him at first, he fought it down. Nate's touch was something he was coming to recognize.

Nate brushed his lips across the nape of his neck, gentle and not enough pressure. "Something smells good."

"Mm. Made you brownies."

Nate nuzzled against him, took a deep breath and tightened his hold. "Thanks, babe." A noncommittal noise slipped from his throat and he went ahead and dunked the mixing bowl in the dishwater, trying not to pay too much attention to the way one of Nate's hands was splaying against his abdomen or the feel of his breath against his neck. He was still kinda mad, dammit, and he didn't want to give that up too easily.

Nate sucked lightly on the juncture of his shoulder, pad of his thumb slipping under this t-shirt where it had ridden up and rubbing against bare skin. "She's dying, Eliot. And she's a sweet lady, she was always good to me, and to Sam, and-"

"Nate, you don't have to explain yourself to me." It was probably(definitely) petty and stupid how much he didn't want to hear it, but honestly, there were times when you wanted to hold onto your irrational anger for just a little bit. He pulled away, walking across to the island to find where he'd left the dish towel, rubbing a little harder than necessary at the water and keeping his eyes on his work.

Nate didn't let him put the distance between them, wrapped around him again, lips back near his ear. "Yeah, I do."

"No, it's none of my business, you-"

"Yeah, it is." He pulled Eliot just a little closer, lips brushing against his jaw. "C'mon, my business, my life…all that involves you now. Now, that means I have to explain every fucking thing to you, so don't let me off the hook, ok? Today was a mess, and I think I needed to go, but I'm still sorry…m' really sorry, Eliot, ok?"

He didn't really answer, but he let himself lean back against Nate's chest, and he knew by the way Nate squeezed him gently that that was answer enough. He put down the towel to rake his fingers through his hair, laughing softly. "We uh…there's no dinner. I kind of got distracted so the brownies are the only things that got done." Cause most of the time, he'd been sulking. Making the brownies had been more something to do with his hands than anything else, and he'd skipped any sort of logical meal order in that thought process.

Nate laughed with him, soft, and Eliot could feel the corners of his lips quirking up at the sound. "Well, that's alright. Take out's fine with me."

"You sure? I was gonna make greek lasagna…" And it would've been pretty awesome if it came out anything like it had the first time he'd made it years ago, and it was something of his Nate hadn't tried and…dammit. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, frustrated. "Sorry."

"Ah, it's ok. Sometime this week, huh?" He reached up, fitting his palm against Eliot's jaw and turning his head enough to kiss him slow and deep. "Love you."

His heart jerked in his chest, pleased and unstable all at once. He'd heard it from Nate a few times now, but he still wasn't used to the way it felt. Maybe he never would be. After all, he hadn't exactly had much practice with it. He brushed their lips together again, leaned back just a little harder against him. "Yeah. You too." He'd managed to say it before, but somehow at the moment the words were sticking in his throat. Maybe he could manage later in the dark, when he could hide his eyes from any of chance of Nate reading the honesty in them and whisper it against his skin as he pushed into him.

Nate turned his head to smile against his throat, pressed a kiss over his pulse. His hands shifted, and he pressing an envelope into Eliot's palm. "Here. Happy Valentine's Day. I'm gonna go order us some food. Pad Thai?"

"Yeah, 's fine." Nate was out of the kitchen pretty quick, and Eliot slit the envelope open in a hurry, curious. He shifted it, dumped the contents out into his palm and found himself sifting through three brochures for a resort in the Fiji Islands, and two round trip plane tickets. With the dates two weeks apart.

He looked up to find Nate watching him from across the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with the phone pressed against his shoulder, a picture of casual. Except Eliot knew him well enough to see the tension in his shoulders and the corners of his eyes, and he smiled and watched it melt away.

"So, uh, thought we needed a vacation. Time away from the team for the two of us, you know. Good idea?"

He was in the doorway in a flash, pinning Nate up against it and ignoring the phone as it clattered to the floor. He kissed him hard, unable to resist sliding his hands into the back of pockets of Nate's black jeans and dragging their hips closer. Nate groaned, and Eliot bit down on his lip, his cock twitching hard at the sound.

When they broke for air, he grinned at him, wild and excited. "Nah. That's a _great_ idea."


End file.
